


Grown-ups

by Rynfinity



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Thor waits as patiently as he can. Still, every night after mama makes him thank the elder gods for his blessings, he adds a silent question: "Is it time?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>AU - Loki grows up in Jotunheim with his parents; Thor grows up in Asgard with his.  Laufey's family visits Odin's every spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grown-ups

They always come right at the best part of Asgard's spring, mama says. The apple trees are in full bloom and there are flowers everywhere but the air still carries a chill. Thor likes the weather better during the summer, when the air is thick and he can make rain fall from the sky, but mama tells him their blue guests find all that heat uncomfortable.

"Oh," Thor says. It makes him sad to think that his friend Loki might not be able to enjoy the best part of the year - the sky crackling with lightning, the night bright with fireflies, the sun baking down and the rivers as warm as the palace baths - and sure enough a few drops of rain splatter the stone path at their feet. "Does Loki like _me_ , mama?"

"How could he not," she assures him, fluffing his sun-bleached, tangled hair. "Everyone loves you."

Privately Thor worries that a boy - he thinks Loki is a boy, but the blue people all look kind of the same so he isn't quite sure - who hates the summer might not love him at all, because he is hot and bright and he brings the rain. Even so, the few times he's suggested it might be a problem his mama has told him not to be silly. "Why can't they visit in the winter, then," he asks, stubbornly refusing to let his worries be brushed away so easily. "It's not warm that time of year." He puts his lower lip out as far as it will go.

"Oh, sweetie," she says, gathering him close even though his dirty feet smear her skirts. "In the winter Loki's parents must take care of their people. Like dada," she explains. "King Laufey and Queen Farbuti have a whole realm to watch over, and winters there are hard."

"Don't they have a guardian," he asks, frowning. Heimdall with his bright armor and his huge sword and his all-seeing eyes is (a big reason why Thor does as he’s told, and) someone he can’t imagine not being there.

"Your dada is very lucky to have Heimdall," mama tells him, and then she kisses his forehead. Her lips tickle against the ridges of his frown, which he laughs and lets her smooth away. "We must never lose sight," she reminds him, "of how lucky we are."

"How can I, mama," he asks her earnestly, "when you tell me so often?" She throws her head back and laughs, but he isn't sure why.

~

Summer fades into autumn, with its bright colors and its winds. The days shorten, and in the evenings Thor can smell wood smoke from every balcony. "Our people are warming themselves," mama explains when he asks why.

"Can't it be summer forever," he fusses, tugging her hand.

"Alas," she says as she kneels down to his level. "We need all the seasons. You will understand in time. Besides," she adds as he pouts, "you would not like endless summer." Mama smiles at him, her hand lifting his chin. "Do you remember why?"

He thinks a moment, and then he does. He panics. "I would never see Loki," he wails, rain splattering the edge of the balcony. He can't even imagine such a thing happening, not for real, but it's awfully scary just the same. "No, mama, no," he sobs, collapsing against her front and burying his face in her long hair. "Nooooo."

"Shhh, sweetie," she comforts him, patting his back gently. "Shh. I did not mean to upset you so. He'll be back in the spring, you'll see."

~

"Does Loki have to spar," Thor asks dada from where he's collapsed panting on the stone bench. He’s trying yet again to catch his breath between rounds. Even the smallest, lightest wooden blunt is too big for his hands and too heavy for his arms; in just a couple of short mock battles - Thor's sword against a wooden blocker dada wears on one arm - he is shaking. He wipes the sweat out of his eyes with the stained, dusty hem of his tunic.

"I'm sure he does," dada tells Thor. "And I bet he isn't lazy about it like an Aesir prince I know."

"Am not," Thor huffs. "I'm just too small."

"That you are," dada agrees, nodding solemnly. "But this is the only way you'll grow any bigger."

"Can Loki and I spar next time he's here," Thor asks. He likes the idea of sharing this with his friend. "If I try harder?"

Dada laughs. The bench shakes a little. "We'll have to ask King Laufey, now, won't we? And besides," dada points out, "his people fight with clubs and knives. You might not like it."

"Nonsense, dada," Thor exclaims. "I know I will."

~

Thor practices diligently all winter, even on those relatively few days when frost hardens the ground and turns his breath into white, fluffy clouds.

~

By the time spring comes, he is proudly showing off his calloused hands and new muscles to everyone who asks… and a lot who do not.

And Thor waits as patiently as he can. Still, every night after mama makes him thank the elder gods for his blessings, he adds a silent question: "Is it time?"

~

The palace is decked out for feasting, with flowers in big vases everywhere and food piled high in the kitchens. "Are we having a party," Thor asks eagerly. "Are we, dada?" He likes parties.

"You are big enough, my son," dada tells him very seriously, squatting down to look him square in the eye, "to call me _father_ now. You are crown prince, and I am your king. And yes," he adds as Thor - a little frightened, and trying hard not to show it - nods, "we are indeed having a party. King Laufey's son has wed."

"What," Thor squeaks. He can't- Loki can’t- it can't be true.

"His son has married," da- _father_ explains as the sky darkens ominously and Thor's eyes fill with tears. "Prince Helblindi. You may not remember him; he hasn't visited us since you were a baby."

_Oh._

Volstagg and Fandral, two of father's favorite soldiers who often help Thor train, have both explained that being married is as good as being dead. They laugh afterwards, especially when they stink of ale, but it all sounds awful just the same.

Thor snuffles. "I thought you meant Loki," he tells his father, blinking and stealthily wiping his tears on one shoulder.

At that his father laughs, not all that differently from Fandral or Volstagg. "Loki is too young," his father explains. "Marriage is for grown-ups."

~

"Father says marriage is for grown-ups, mama," Thor tells his mother that afternoon. She still lets him call her mama, even though she is a queen. Maybe he can be queen instead of king, when he's bigger. Being queen seems nicer.

"That it is, sweetie," she agrees, taking his dirty hand in her smooth, soft one, and he thinks he very much _does_ want to be a queen instead. "Prince Helblindi is a grown-up," she reminds him. "He's much older than your friend Loki."

Thor huffs out a little sigh of relief. "What else is for grown-ups," he asks her. He's curious. It can't all be the same as dying. It can't, because all around him people are happy.

"Hmm," she hums. "Ale, and mead," she tells him, but Thor doesn’t think that's quite what he means somehow.

"And what else," he presses, swinging her hand back and forth. “There must be more.”

"Kissing," she says, and then winces.

He's puzzled. "But you kiss me now," he reminds her. "Every day."

"That's different," she says.

"How," he asks her. He doesn't get it. She kissed him just a few minutes ago, first on the hair and the on the nose. Maybe it's her way of helping him turn into a grown-up, kind of like father and the sparring. Or the words.

"Now _that_ , young man," she says - sure enough, he’s on to her - "is a good question for your father."

~

That evening the Jotun delegation arrives. Loki and his parents will be staying for their usual spring holiday; the rest, mama had promised him quietly as he'd been hiding behind her - a little cowed by the sight of so many huge blue people kissing her hands and then kneeling before his father - are just staying two days for the party. And then they are going back to Jotunheim, and things will go back to normal.

He can hardly wait.  
~

Loki and Thor barely have time to hug hello. His friend is taller and thinner and smells of bright frosty mornings. They are allowed to come to the dinner, and to sit together at the royal table, but spirits are running high and the huge, vaulted room proves far too loud for talking. Loki holds Thor's hand under the table, though, and smiles at him. Life feels a little more promising.

As servants clear dinner, Helblindi - impossibly tall and dripping gold - kisses his new mate to loud hoots and resounding cheers.

Watching them Thor realizes mama was right; it _is_ different.

~

He and Loki stand on his balcony – Thor’d left the nursery, finally, back in the winter and is now the proud owner of _chambers_ \- peering through the railing at the revelry far below. Everyone seems very happy. Maybe being a grown-up is okay after all, even if it _is_ a little scary.

"I've been sparring," he brags, making a muscle. "See?"

Loki grins. His teeth gleam white in the near-darkness. "I've been fighting with knives," he counters, taking up the appropriate stance like a small blue soldier. "And learning spells."

"Whoa," Thor breathes as glowing green knives flash in Loki's hands. "Do that again."

Loki does.

~

They trade off secrets until the streets quiet down and they're both yawning. "I’ve missed you so much," Loki says, flinging his cool arms around Thor's neck. His face hovers only an inch or two away.

"Me too," Thor agrees, hugging Loki's slim frame close.

And then, without thinking, Thor kisses him.

Loki's mouth is warmer than Thor expected, which startles him into opening his own. Loki's tongue darts between Thor’s lips and touches his, just the very tip. It's wet and firm and it tastes like- like a tongue, and maybe a little like dinner. They both jump back at the same moment, giggling and wiping their mouths with their hands.

"If we do it too much," Thor warns Loki, feeling very grown-up indeed, "they might make us get _married_."

Loki smiles, then leans in and kisses Thor quickly again. "They might," he says, laughing and spinning away, and Thor loves him more than ever. "Maybe."


End file.
